Chapter Thirty-Three
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SUMMARY: Evvy spends some time with friends before she leaves for the Woodland Realm, then her brother takes her to another, important meeting.
Lady Emëldir, head of King Thranduil's Council offers some comfort to her dear friend, Galion…
And some help, whether he wants it or not.
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I hate myself for loving you
Can't break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you that's why
I hate myself for loving you…
-By Joan Jett & the Blackhearts
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Lothlórien, 4th of August 2944 T.A.
Evranin and Orlin spent most of the day packing her things to get ready to leave tomorrow morning.
Once the luggage was sent to the wagons, it was time for another meeting. Evvy's stomach clenched as she held on to Orlin's hand, as they made their way over the high walkways to their parents' house.
"Are you ready?" His voice was kind.
"No." She pulled her hand away and held it against her middle. "What if this is just another ruse? What if she does not—"
"Aewpîn," her brother stopped and turned her around to face him. "I have spoken at length to Naneth, and I have to say that in light of what I have learned, her behavior makes more sense. That does not excuse the pain she caused you—nothing will—but I think she has been afraid for a long time. Fear, especially when it is deep inside your fëa, makes one do things they normally would not do."
"Why is she like this?"
"Who can say? She has never been happy in this life, Evvy, and she projected it onto you. It was not right, nor was it rational, but I think she believed that if she had control over your life, she would prevent you from making her mistakes, and it might loosen strings around her own heart."
"It was a terrible thing to do." Angry tears filled her eyes.
"Yes, it was," Orlin gathered her to him. "I will not pretend differently. Be angry if it helps, Evvy; mourn for the time lost, but then I urge you to put it behind you and live your life. Do not allow yourself to hate her."
"How can I not?" She mumbled into the front of his tunic.
"It would serve no other purpose than to hurt you, that is why. Hatred is like stabbing yourself with a knife, thinking you will make someone else bleed, and it will consume you! Do you not see what it did to our mother?"
"How to I do this?" She scrunched her eyes tight to stop herself from crying.
"It will take a while, Aewpîn nîn, but if you try to understand and pity her, you will grow and become strong." He stroked her hair. "But we will not think more of this today. For now, let us focus on this evening, and nothing else."
"I will think about what you said."
"That is all I ask." He kissed the top of her head.
"Orlin," Evvy leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked, "what do you think about King Thranduil's offer?"
"What do you think?"
"I will be all alone; what if I get homesick for you and Ada?"
"I am certain you will at first, but Airen lives in the Palace with her husband, and Cwën lives in Dale now, along with Rôgon, and he has always been good to us."
"I have never been apart from you or Ada," her eyes stung, "what if I am there and I am miserable?"
"No one will force you to be where you are unhappy," Orlin rubbed her upper arms. "How about this: tell King Thranduil that you will work in the Woodland Realm, for a year, and if at the end of that time, you are still unhappy, then you will help him find a replacement. Either way, the work will begin, and I think he and Lord Bard will be satisfied."
"And you and Ada will write? And you promise to visit?"
"So often you will be tired of us." He tousled her hair. "Now, let us get this over with; it might not be as bad as you anticipate."
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Once at the entrance to Ohtar's and Vériel's Talon, Evranin forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths, as her heart pounded.
"I can do this," she whispered to herself. "I can do this…"
"Yes, you can," Orlin squeezed her hand, as he knocked, "we will do it together."
Her Adar opened the door with a tired smile. "I'm glad you came, Aewpîn. Come in and sit down."
Her brother led her into the sitting room to the couch, took a seat beside her and placed a warm, reassuring arm around her shoulders.
"Thank you for coming, Aewpîn."
"Of course, Ada," she whispered nervously, as her father sat on the other couch next to their mother.
After a few moments, Evvy mustered the courage to across the room, and stifled a gasp.
Never had she seen her mother like this! Gone was the ornate jewelry, the wide necklaces, and earrings she always liked to wear. Her hair was no longer put up with intricate braids and curls, but down and brushed away from her face. Her layers of flowing outer robes were also missing, and she was clad only in a plain, light green dress.
But her face.
Ai! Without the mask of busy jewelry and elaborate hair, Evvy could see the deep exhaustion in her countenance, the dull skin and sad eyes which looked down at her lap, as ringless fingers plucked at her skirts.
"Naneth?" She called softly.
"Evranin, I…" Vériel hesitated, "I would not blame you if you reject me now. I was wrong about so many things, and I am sorrier than I can tell you."
Evvy opened her mouth to say it was all right, but her mother shook her head vehemently.
"No, child. The fault lies with me, and no other. I would not face up to things, and used you as an excuse to remain in a world that held little joy for me, anymore. I was angry at what was happening to me, and afraid…"
"What did you fear?"
"The truth. I thought if I could fight through whatever this was, all would be well in the end."
"Why did you not tell the Lady?" Evvy asked. "She would have helped you!"
"I hardly knew it myself! I had to appear strong, because the Lord and Lady deserve my best efforts, and I…". Vériel rubbed her temples. "It is a great honor to serve on the Council and I was good at it…" she paused. "It was the only thing I was good at.
"I am a terrible wife and mother; I wanted to love your father the way I should, but my heart was not in it, and I made too many mistakes with you children…. I should have gone to Lady Galadriel when it all started, and spared us years of unhappiness."
"But she would have sent you across the sea!" Evvy cried.
"Yes, she probably would have," a tear escaped her mother's eye and rolled down her cheek. "But better that, than what I forced you all to endure. My will was strong, and I honestly believed I could work through it. Did not King Thranduil remain, despite his own grief? And look how he has found happiness again! Perhaps I thought I would, too."
"Evvy," Ohtar put his arm around his former wife. "Your mother and I have talked more during these past weeks than in centuries. Things are better between us now, and it is clear she will never heal here. We all deserve health and happiness, and if she finds this in Valinor, I want her to go, with my blessing."
"The Shadow is a terrible thing," Orlin shook his head as he squeezed Evvy's hand. "Nana was more vulnerable because of the Call of the Sea, and she had been weakened by the Necromancer. It never occurred to us that others would be attacked when the Blue Wizard came."
"Like with Prince Legolas, and with Rúmil and Turamarth?" she turned her head toward her brother, then back at their mother with growing horror.
"Yes." Vériel admitted. "But I count myself fortunate, hênig, because it forced things out into the open."
"So, it was not me," she whispered softly. "I always felt like I was disappointing you; like I was never enough…"
"No, Evranin! You were never at fault, and I am—" Vériel buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
Before she realized what was happening, Evvy was across the room and embracing her mother.
Ai, gorgor; how thin and bony her shoulders were! Her wrists, usually covered in bracelets, were like sticks, and the skin around her throat was shriveled. How had she not noticed how ill her mother truly was?
"I never hated you, Iell nîn." Vériel wiped her eyes. "I was jealous of you! I hid behind all that frippery and tried to be strong, but you are braver than I ever could be."
Evvy's head jerked back in surprise. "I do not—"
"It is true! You have the courage to be yourself, hênig. All the hopes and dreams I had for myself…. They were there in front of me the whole time, but I never bothered to look."
"Where were they?"
"In you! Evvy, you are talented, intelligent, and have no need to hide behind fancy clothes or hair, and pretend to be someone you are not. You really are perfect, just the way you are."
"Oh, Naneth," Evvy began to cry, too. "Do you really think so?"
Her mother's frail arms tightened. "I know so, and your father and brother know it, too." Vériel took the handkerchief her husband held out, and wiped her face. "Now, I want you to promise me you will take that job in Dale."
"But—"
"No buts," she held Evranin's face in her thin fingers. "You go see what life has waiting for you, and I will go to the White Shores, and do the same. We will meet again, Evvy, and when we do, I want to see you smiling, perhaps with a husband, and a few grandchildren for me to spoil, yes?"
"But the King's party leaves tomorrow," Evranin searched her mother's tired eyes. "I should stay, at least until you leave."
"No, my daughter; you take this memory with you and I hope you cherish it as I will. When I get on that ship, I want to think of you pursuing your dreams, not languishing here. Orlin has told me a little bit about your Guardian, and I am sorry for ever thinking ill of him. That young Ellon needs you more than he realizes right now. If Turamarth is your One, then you owe it to yourself to find out."
"But what about you, Ada?" Evvy searched her father's face. "Will you be all right?"
"Aewpîn, as I said yesterday, your mother and I will part as good friends. We love each other, but I was never her One, nor she mine."
"I do not understand…"
"Before I married your father, I was in love with a Warden who had been killed. I agreed to marry your father, but not for love, Evranin; I was looking for safety. It was wrong for me to do that, yet I cannot regret it: this union brought us two wonderful children!"
Ohtar smiled at Vériel. "Perhaps when you reach Valinor this Ellon will be there, and you will have a second chance."
Evvy's mother cupped her Adar's cheek. "And you are a good, kind Elf, who should be loved the way you deserve." Vériel turned back to Evranin. "This is why you must go, Evvy! Never run from your feelings and never, ever tell yourself to 'settle' because it is the safer option. Promise me!"
"I promise," she whispered. "I will go."
"Good!" Adar smiled and stood up. "I have been too busy to prepare a meal, but the Lord and Lady sent over a nice little 'going away' feast for all of us. Let us eat!"
She smiled at her brother, as he helped Vériel stand. "I would like that."
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The Woodland Realm, 4th of August 2944 T.A.
"I hate to see you like this," Lady Emëldir, head of King Thranduil's Council said to Galion, as she picked up the teapot and poured out. "Can you not tell me what ails you?"
As Aide lifted the cup to his lips and took a small sip, she noted the slight tremble in his hands.
"I love the Woodland Realm," Galion said. "I love our people, but lately I find myself wanting something more, something for myself. I know it may sound selfish—"
"It is not selfish," Emëldir said firmly. "I am as dedicated as you, but I also have a family. Silmon is a wonderful husband, and our children and grandchildren remind me why I serve this Realm."
"So, you see my dilemma," his throat tightened. "I do not regret all those years with Thranduil and the children, but he has Bard now."
"You are still family to them, Mellon. They all love you."
"And I love them," he swallowed. "As terrible as this sounds…it is not enough, anymore."
"Have you been hurt?"
He searched for a way to explain. "Thranduil told me something last year, and I did not understand it until now."
"What do you mean?" Emëldir's forehead creased as she looked upon her friend with worry.
"Do you recall the reports of the attack on Dale, last May?"
She dipped her head. "Meldon was killed, and the Princesses were kidnapped along with some others. There was a fire, as I recall."
"Yes. Thranduil nearly died in those flames, if you remember, but Lord Celeborn and his wife found a way to save him and the others. What I did not expect was what he told me later."
"Which was?"
"Had Celeborn not miraculously saved him, he was not going to try and escape. He wanted a quick death."
"Ú Law!" She inhaled sharply, clasping her throat. "But why?"
"He was burned badly during the War, and the memory of haunts him still. When the criminal set the wagon – and him – on fire, he knew the agony he would be forced to endure, and could not face it - not even for Bard. I questioned it then, but now I see what he meant."
" Emëldir set her cup and saucer down on the low table and sat back, "what kind of wound do you suffer that makes you understand?"
His eyes filled and he swallowed hard. After a moment, he murmured, "It is a sad thing to meet your One and know your love will never be returned..."
"And you loved someone, yes?"
Galion rubbed his jaw, and took a deep breath. "I was in love with Oropher."
Her hand flew to her mouth, her heart clenching at the defeated look on her dear friend's face. "I knew you had always been friends, but… Did Oropher ever find out?"
"Not for a long time," he shook his head. "Then he met Lindorië, and when they were betrothed… I did not think I could stand by and watch, so I told him I was leaving."
"What did he do?"
"Oropher came to me alone, later that night. We wept and talked for hours, until nothing more was hidden between us. He asked me if I could find a way to stay," he swiped at his eyes. "He could never desire me the way I wanted, but I was his best and closest friend, and he needed someone he trusted completely beside him." Galion's mouth lifted in a resigned smile, then said quietly. "When I decided to stay, he gave me a gift."
"What was that?"
"He kissed me. Only once, you understand, but he did it for me." The Aide touched his lips. "In over six thousand years, his was my only kiss…" he shook himself. "It was enough then. I made it be enough…"
"Did Queen Lindorië know any of this?"
"If she did, she never said. In time I grew to love her as the dearest of sisters."
"Are you happy you stayed?"
"It was painful for a long time, but then Thranduil was born, and he filled every crack in my heart. I understood my purpose then."
"There is nothing like the love a parent has for a child," Emëldir agreed.
"I never knew love could be like that. When he opened his eyes and looked up at me for the first time…" The Aide's features softened, and the tension left him. "I wept with the purest joy I had ever known."
"It is wonderful," she agreed.
"I raised Thranduil as much as Oropher and Lindorië. I took all the love I carried and put it into him, and was richly rewarded. We have celebrated triumphs, and endured tragedies together: Oropher's death, losing his mother, then Mírelen…" His chest lifted and fell as a long sigh escaped him. "But now, my Ionnauth has Bard and all the children... I am happy for him, Emëldir, never doubt that, but the truth is, Thranduil no longer needs me like he once did."
"They may not be yours by blood, Galion," she put her hand over his and squeezed, "but never doubt you have a loving family. Even Lord Bard's children see you as nothing less."
"And it was enough, until…" he swallowed.
She tilted her head lower to catch his eye. "Until what?"
"There is an Elf in Dale—"
"And?"
"He is...special."
"This is good news, is it not?"
"No!" he threw his hands up. "Of all the Elves in Middle Earth, why this one? Does the Valar have a cruel sense of humor?"
Emëldir tilted her head, and her brow furrowed in confusion. "Is there something wrong with him?"
"Everything is wrong!" he cried, throwing his hands in the air. After a pause, Galion clasped them in his lap and forced himself to calm down. "I do not mean it like that. He is not evil, but he is…"
"He is what?"
"Too different from me."
"How so?"
"I have spent my entire life organizing, planning and seeing to details to keep the King and the Kingdom running smoothly—"
"No one does it better, Mellon," she agreed in a soothing tone.
"That is right!" he slammed down his cup and began to pace the length of his study in agitation. "I anticipate and prepare for anything and everything, and I do it for all of you, not just Thranduil! People's lives depend upon it!"
"And you have serves us well, Mellon. So, I take this Elf is…different than you?"
"He is nothing like me! He is impetuous, rash, foolhardy and hotheaded! No wonder he irritates me so!" he made a fist and punched the air. "That Elf gets under my skin and brings out the worst in me…"
"How so?"
"I thought I could be like him, just once." He groaned. "I have never done an impulsive thing in my life, except for last night, and look what happened? If I had only waited, and thought this through…"
"What would be different?"
"Nothing would have happened at all! I would have come here, instead of being humiliated. Instead, I went to his house and said something utterly stupid and ruined everything."
The Elleth set her cup down and went over to him. "Come," she said in a low, soothing voice. "You need to sit back down and talk to me."
Galion flopped back down on the couch and told her everything. When he was done, he hung his head and rubbed his forehead. His eyes were full of pain and sadness.
"Emëldir, I am the worst of fools. I have never done anything like this; I do not know what to say, what to do, what not to say…" He moaned and buried his face. "Why is this so hard?"
"Because my dear, you have forgotten how to want things for yourself." she rubbed his back. "It is high time you learned."
"I loved Oropher." He hung his head, and a tear dropped from the end of his nose. "But… this is nothing like that."
"What is it like?"
"So… unexpected." Galion sniffed, and he wiped his nose. "With Oropher it was just… there in a warm, peaceful way, but my feelings for Rôg are different. It is like..."
"A lightning bolt?" her eyebrow quirked.
"Yes! When I see him, something – I do not know what it is – slams into me and I become tongue-tied and… I do not know whether to hug him, or slap him, or laugh, or cry, or kiss him, or strangle him, or have him arrested! He irritates me like no one has ever done, but I cannot get him out of my mind!" Galion winced in embarrassment, as he reluctantly admitted, "I dream about him, too."
"A, Mellon nîn," she gave him a knowing smile. "What you describe is the Ehtë Raumo."
"But that would mean…" His eyes became like saucers. "No, that cannot be!"
"I am afraid it is," she grinned. "You, are in love with Rôgon."
"But he hates me!" Galion wailed. "I wish I had never laid eyes on him; I was happy, and my life was good, then he shows up, and with one kiss—"
"Kiss?"
"I kissed him." He grimaced. "To be precise, he kissed me, but…"
"That does not sound like someone who hates you."
"I cannot go through this again," he sobbed. "I cannot go back to the way things were anymore, and that is why I have to leave. There is this… terrible void in me," he cried into her shoulder. "A void I am too old and tired to try and live with."
"Ai…" Emëldir wrapped her arm around his shoulder.
"I will remain here at the Palace until Thranduil and Legolas return, but after, I will arrange for an escort to the Grey Havens. Perhaps there, I will find peace."
"Oh, Mellon; are you certain?"
His eyes searched hers. "Tell me, Emëldir, what would you do if you were me?"
"You are my colleague and friend." she said, kindly. "I will do everything I can to help you find happiness."
"Thank you," he pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose. "We should keep this between us until I have a chance to talk with Thranduil. In the meantime, I will carry out my duties and help you find a good replacement."
"I am sure you will." Emëldir sighed and pulled him up to stand. "You are exhausted. Let me walk you to your rooms."
She picked up the tray and set it outside the door for the servants, then waited while Galion locked his study. When they reached the door to his apartment, she gave him a tight embrace.
"Things always seem better after a good sleep." She whispered. "Tomorrow will be better; I promise."
Galion's smile was teary, as he opened the door to his rooms and went in.
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The moment the door clicked shut, Lady Emëldir dashed across the hall to one of the guest suites. "He is in!" she whispered nervously. "Hurry!"
In a flash, Mithrandir burst forward, followed by Hilda, just as—
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"
The high-pitch scream filled the air, bounced off the stone walls, and sent an echo throughout the Royal Wing. Captain Elion and his wife Airen, who were on duty, shut their eyes and covered their ears.
"Whoops!" Hilda hissed as the door started to open. Emëldir and Hilda dove forward, grabbed the handle and pulled with all their might.
"What are you waiting for?" Hilda hissed at the Wizard, "Get the lead out, you!"
Gandalf lifted his staff and murmured a spell. The door remained stuck, and knob continued to jangle.
"Emëldir? What is happening? Are you still out there?"
"Of course, she is out there! She was in on it from the beginning!"
"I refuse to believe it; Emëldir? You have to let me out! HE is in here and will not leave!"
"You think I would be here if I had a choice in the matter, Galion? Trust me; I'd rather be locked in a room with a Warg!"
"THEN GET OUT!"
More pounding.
"This is not funny, Emëldir! I want this…this… Ulthîr hû out of my rooms this instant, or I will pay Mithrandir to—"
"Who do you think dragged me here, you fool? And I am NOT an 'ugly dog-face,' YOU ARE!"
"Mithrandir? He would not! I do not believe you!"
"Oh, no? Go ahead, then. Ask him! He is standing out there with your friend and Lady Hilda!"
"Hilda? Hilda did this?"
"This was all her idea!"
"You lie, TRAITOR!"
A body was thrown against the door.
"NAEG! That was my shoulder, Dorog chín! Let me out of here! Guards!"
Emëldir blushed to the roots of her hair. "I have never heard Galion speak this way."
"Bard's bad influence," Hilda rolled her eyes, "and you bet your sweet bippy he'll get an earful when I get home!"
"Hilda? Is that you? Please, PLEASE let me out! I cannot be in here with this… Mírdan Puithel!"
"Don't look at me like that, Galion! This was NOT my idea!"
"I will look at you any way I please! These are MY rooms and I want you out of here!"
"And I do not want to be here anymore than you do!"
"So why did you not leave?"
"I TOLD YOU, I DID NOT HAVE A CHOICE! Mithrandir threatened to turn me into a toad! I tried to escape, but Hilda dragged me in here by my ear! BY MY EAR! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THAT HURT?"
"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! If you had not been so cruel, I would not be stuck here with you, you heartless, filthy, stinking, inconsiderate ORC!"
"Well if YOU were not such an uppity, prissy, snob—"
"I am not a snob! Except with you. I wish I had never laid eyes on you!"
"Well, that makes two of us! I was doing fine until YOU came along—"
"What do you mean, 'came along?' I lived in Dale long before you even showed up; it is YOU that 'came along!'"
"Oh, for Valar's sake..." Hilda sighed and went to the door. "Now boys, we're only doing this because we love you too much to let you throw this away. Galion, I know you're nervous and scared—"
"I am not!"
"…but remember that Rôgon is just as scared as you are—"
"I am not!"
"…and deep down, neither one of you wants things to end this way, do you?"
"Yes, I do!"
"I don't care how it ends. Just get me out of here!"
"…and right now you're both saying things to each other that you really don't mean—"
"I mean every word! Rôg is a narcissistic, cruel, callous TROLL—"
"And Galion is an uptight, stuffy, neurotic prudish, FUSSBUDGET—"
"…and once the two of you calm down you'll thank me for this—"
"I will NOT thank you, and I will NOT stay in here with this… this… cowardly, faithless, heartless, beast! Hilda, as of this minute we are no longer friends, and I never want to speak to you again!"
"Do NOT talk to Lady Hilda like that!"
"I will talk to her any way I want, blacksmith! She's MY friend, not yours!"
"But you just told her—"
"I know what I said! And I am NOT A PRUDE! Just because I do not happen to enjoy living in squalor with three inches of dust all over my furniture and mold in the dirty dishes in the sink—"
"There is no mold on my dishes, you… you… neat-freak!"
"What do you call that green film all over them? Flavoring?"
"Shut up!"
"YOU shut up!"
"Oh, it's love, all right," Gandalf snickered and nudged Emëldir. "Listen to them!"
"They sound like Silmon and me, when we argue," she giggled.
"What they sound like is a pair of big babies!" Hilda gritted her teeth, snatched the staff from Gandalf's hands and gave the door a couple of good whacks.
"THAT'S ENOUGH! Knock it off, both of you! Don't make me come in there, or I'll whip your stubborn arses till you can't sit down for a month!"
"She would not really do that, would she?"
"Yes, she would, Rôg, so shut up, or you will make it worse!"
"YOU shut up! This is all your fault!"
"MY FAULT? This is MY apartment, and I did NOT invite you here! If you had not thrown me out without bothering to LISTEN to me for TWO MINUTES, we would not be in this mess!"
"It's BOTH of your faults, you ninnies! If you boys hadn't acted like a couple of JACKASSES, we wouldn't have to do this in the first place! My Lands; you ought to be ashamed! Tilda is more mature than the two of you put together! Now grow up and get yourselves sorted, or I'll leave you in there to starve to death!"
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"But Hilda—"
"But My Lady—"
Hilda raised the staff to whack the door again—
"Oh-ho; I'll take that!" Gandalf grabbed it. "We wouldn't want to turn them into goats, would we?"
"Oh… sorry," She winced. "Now boys, you've got food enough to last 'til tomorrow, but no one's getting out until this is settled, you hear me?"
"If Rôgon is dead, the food will last longer..."
"Ego!"
"Do not tell me to fuck off! YOU fuck off!"
Hilda stomped her foot. "Galion, if you kill Rôgon, I'll make sure you're stuck in there forever with his rotting corpse!"
"You would never!"
"YOU WANNA BET? If you hadn't been such a pair of buffoons, and screwed this up, we wouldn't have to do this! But you are, and you did, and we did! Now, we'll check in on you first thing in the morning, and remember: we love you both very much.
"But—"
"Good night, Mellyn," Emëldir said.
"But—"
"Have a pleasant evening," the Wizard grinned.
"Wait! Do not go!"
There was more pounding and shouting, and Hilda snorted with disgust.
"Should you put up a silencing spell?" Emëldir wrinkled her nose at the noise.
Every guard in the Hall pleaded silently with their eyes.
"I don't think it's a good idea," Gandalf turned to Elion. "Captain, if you hear sounds of tearing flesh, or blood spurting from an artery, come and get me. Otherwise, I'll be in my suite."
"Yes, My Lord," the Guardian saluted, dismally.
"Ooh! Wait! That reminds me!" Hilda went over to Elion and whispered something in his ear, and his face brightened. He whispered something back, and she nodded with a smile. "I'll get you down for it, don't worry."
"Hilda, do you honestly think this will work?" Emëldir eyed the door.
"Trust me," the Lady from Dale patted her hand. "If they didn't love each other so much, they wouldn't be screaming their heads off. Men don't know what's good for them, sometimes."
"And Elves are no exception." The Councilor giggled, then saluted. "I bid you good night."
"See you in the morning, love," Hilda waved.
As she left, Gandalf asked, "What were you whispering to the Guard about?"
"Oh that," she pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. "Percy started a pool: Elion's down for four fifteen, Percy picked two-thirty in the morning, Elrond took the six a.m. slot, but I'm holding out for ten tomorrow… Now, it's a long shot, but I think I'm right, and it will triple my winnings."
The Wizard's bushy grey brows drew together in astonishment. "Bard is not the only bad influence, I see."
"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." She took out her pencil. "Well?"
"Eight-thirty." Gandalf smirked. "Emëldir is going to have your head for this, you know."
"I'm sure she will," Hilda shrugged, "but her husband, has twelve silver coins on seven o'clock sharp."
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Dorog chín! - You troll
Ego! – Fuck off!
Ionnauth – Son of my heart
Mellon nîn – My friend
Mírdan Puithel! – Fucking Blacksmith!
NAEG! – OW!
Orch pen-'ur! – Heartless Orc!
Ú Law! – "Oh no! It cannot be!
Ulthîr hû – Ugly dog-face
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